


a red line

by LadyMerlin



Series: RoyEd Week 2019 [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: (you know who I'm talking about), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canonical Character Death, Doctoral Student/Bartender Edward Elric, Don't copy to another site, F/F, Female Edward Elric, Female Roy Mustang, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Genderswap, Police Officer Roy Mustang, RoyEd Week 2019, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-25 23:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: Maes had always been an aggressive wingman in life, and it figured that he wouldn't let a small thing like death get in his way.





	a red line

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for RoyEd Week 2019 Day 1, loosely inspired by the song-prompt "Timebomb by Walk the Moon".
> 
> As always, this has not been beta-read. Sending it with love to Rie and Iginita, who are always as thirsty on main as I am. Ilu guys, and I'm sorry there's no smut. I promise, it's coming soon.

The dive bar isn’t exactly Roy’s kind of place. 

For one, there are too many peanut shells on the floor; it’s gross. For another, she’d made the mistake of propping her arms on the sticky table-top and then she’d been forced to make a trip to the (_seriously _ gross) bathroom to wash her elbows. Her dress is entirely too nice for a place that feels like it’s still stuck 40 years in the past, and it keeps catching on the peeling faux-leather of the booth seat. She feels terribly out of place. 

She’d never felt like this when she came here with Maes, not because he was a man or anything, but because Maes had had this way of fitting in wherever he went. Her charisma is a much colder, more calculated version of his open warmth. It’s partly why they’d made such a good team, and now that he’s gone… 

She takes a swig of her admittedly-cheap beer, and tries her best to avoid making contact with the sticky surface of the table. It tastes flat, somehow, but then everything has been a little flat since… well. 

She’d just visited Gracia and Elysia that afternoon and being in that house again, expecting Maes to walk out of the kitchen any minute, had been too painful to even fathom. She’d repeatedly invited Gracia to come live with her for a bit until they found their feet again, or until they found a new place to live, but Gracia had turned Roy down every time. The memories which hurt Roy so badly were exactly what kept Gracia going, even when Elicia refused to sleep in her bed because ‘papa would need somewhere to sleep when he came home’. 

It was enough to drive her to drink, which explained why she was here. 

Well, not _ here _, exactly, because there’s no reason for her to have come to the bar which she and Maes used to frequent when they were in the academy together. No reason at all. 

There really are no redeeming qualities to this bar, except for the way it seems to be layered with a hazy veneer of memories, making everything look a little bit brighter and more beautiful than it actually is.

She’s not going to come back here again. She’s wearing Maes’ favourite navy-blue polka-dot dress and her most comfortable black heels and her brightest lipstick, just to say goodbye to this place. This is the outfit she wore to Maes’ wedding, and since that was the happiest day of his life she thinks it’s only fitting that it’s what she’s wearing for this private farewell. 

And okay yes, maybe the beer has made her especially melodramatic but she thinks she’s entitled. Her best friend is dead. There are so many things she wants to say to him, which now, she’ll never get the chance to. 

Her contemplation is shattered by the sound of glass breaking at the bar, where a drunk patron is trying to clamber over the countertop to top up his drink. Roy sighs and gets up. She’s off duty now but she kinda has an obligation to intervene, even though it’s been years since she walked a beat. Maes would have leapt into action without even thinking about it, like a big damn hero, and it’s what got him killed… 

She’s almost there, bracing herself to haul the lumbering idiot off the bar before he hurts himself or anybody else, but someone else gets there before she can even lift her hands. The idiot slides off the bar and lands like a bag of wet rice on the ground near Roy’s feet, blinking up at her, dazed.

Roy blinks back at him for a second before looking up at the person on the other side of the bartop, and her heart literally skips a beat. Maes had always said that cardiac arrhythmia was the first sign of attraction, but attraction is such a weak word for what Roy feels when she sees - when she sees the _ angel _ standing on the other side of the bar, wearing a scowl, arms crossed in front of her chest. 

Her golden hair is hanging in a braid over her right, leather-clad shoulder. Roy feels the visceral urge to touch it, and it takes a good portion of her self control to keep her hands to herself. That, and the knowledge that she was likely to lose a hand if she tried, if she was any judge of the look on the angel’s face.

“What part of _ wait _did you not understand?” The angel snaps at the drunken idiot who’s slowly getting to his feet. 

“Refill!” the idiot shouts, and tries to throw his empty glass at the angel, but he’s so drunk that it just lands on the carpeted ground beside him with a dull thunk. Roy is so ready to tear into him, but it turns out she doesn’t have to. 

“Shift change,” the angel replies, non-sequitur, suddenly smirking, leaning back in a way that changes her entire aura from aggressive to confident and calm; overwhelmingly attractive. “Unluckily for you, I now have the right to refuse service. Pay your tab and get out.” 

The man clambers to his feet and steps forward, and so does Roy, getting ready to intervene when he growls at the angel. To her bemusement, the angel snarls back, baring her teeth and raising her hackles, a much more intimidating display even though she’s about half the height of the drunk patron, and barely a quarter of his weight. 

He’s apparently not too drunk to reconsider his strategy, which he does, throwing a fist full of crumpled notes onto the bar top. The angel just smiles at him, still baring her teeth. “Thanks for the tip!” she calls cheerfully as he stumbles out from the bar, throwing up the bird behind him as he leaves. 

Roy is grinning almost helplessly when the angel turns her laser-like attention to her. It’s quick but Roy sees her glance flicker down to Roy’s cleavage and then back up to her face, and she can’t help but grin a little wider. The angel’s scowl deepens when she realises she’s been caught, and her aura turns defensive again. 

“You don’t get free drinks for attempted heroism,” she snaps and it takes a second for Roy to get it, but when she does, she laughs. It’s the first time she’s even felt like laughing in weeks. Maes would have been thrilled.

Roy pulls her badge out of her pocket and flashes it at the angel, pocketing it quickly before anyone else sees it. This isn’t exactly the best sort of place for coppers, which is why Maes had liked it so much. They could always talk shit about their bosses and colleagues without worrying about eavesdroppers. “It’s not heroism if it’s my job, right?”

The angel clicks her tongue in disgust and rolls her eyes. “Fucking pig,” she grumbles, but with no real heat. Roy isn’t phased; plenty of people don’t like the police, it’s not something to worry about, yet. 

She's definitely interested, but there’s a small part of her that hesitates, because Maes is gone and she’s not okay, and she doesn’t know if this is the right time to be doing this. But it’s rare for her to be so attracted to anyone and she thinks Maes would have wanted her to go for it. Correction: Maes would have killed her if she’d let this slip away. The irony was that if he’d been here, she’d never have gone for it. She might not even have noticed the angel in plain sight. The irony was that she's only here because he isn't, and wasn't it funny in a morbid sort of way, that her best friend is in heaven and now she's met an angel at his favorite bar? 

Maes had always been an aggressive wingman in life, and it figured that he wouldn't let a small thing like death get in his way. 

“I actually wanted to ask if I could buy _ you _ a drink?” Roy asks, winning (or losing?) her internal battle and glancing back at her original booth to make sure she hadn’t let anything behind. She slides onto a bar stool and drapes her full skirt artfully across her lap. It’s not like the angel can see it, but it makes Roy feel pretty, so. 

The bartender stares at her, eyebrows furrowed adorably, lips pulled down in a frown. “You want to buy _ me _ a drink,” she repeats, like she can’t quite believe it. 

Roy nods, absently pulling a wet-wipe out of her purse and wiping down the bar top in front of her conscientiously. Like fuck she’s going to let her dress touch it, if it’s anything as sticky as the booth table had been. The angel watches incredulously, eyebrow going higher and higher until Roy is done, folding the used wet-wipe into a little square and tucking it under her empty glass. 

“Lady,” the angel deadpans, “I think you’re in the wrong bar. Take your drinking buddies and find somewhere nicer.” She turns away to continue polishing glasses, though Roy doubts it’s appreciated in a place like this. 

"Are you saying no to a free drink?” she counters, pulling out her last 500 cen note. She props her elbows confidently against the (clean) bartop and rests her chin on top of her knuckles, smug in the knowledge that this position is going to give the angel a direct view of her cleavage. No one ever said Roy played fair. 

The angel turns to her but her tawny eyes never once break from their pointed gaze. Roy is reminded eerily of a lioness or some other sort of big cat; something beautiful with paws that could crush a man’s head. “What’ll it be,” angel asks, apparently giving in when Roy doesn’t flinch from her stare. 

“Whatever you like, sweetheart,” Roy croons, knowing that her own tipsiness is making her more affectionate than she usually is. She can only hope that it doesn’t make the angel think _ too _ poorly of her. 

The angel’s eyebrows rise and they’re really miniature works of art, wth how sharp and precise they are. Roy has never before met someone who could convey such disdain with just their eyebrows; it’s glorious. 

“You know I could chose a 400 cen drink, right?” she asks Roy calmly, pulling a draught of IPA while she talks, as if assuring Roy that she doesn’t want to drink her money. “You’ll have another gin & tonic?” 

Roy nods and then shrugs at the faux-threat, watching the bartender thunk her pint glass onto the bar top. Even though the glass is full, not a single drop spills out. She’s all grace and confidence as she pours a G&T, and Roy kind of wants to wrap around her while she’s working, just so she can feel that efficiency of movement with her entire body. “Where’s your friend,” the angel asks when they’ve clinked their glasses together and successfully avoided spilling their respective drinks on the wooden counter. 

Roy takes a sip of her wonderfully strong G&T and smiles, a little ruefully. “He’s dead,” she replies, and watches the blood drain straight out of the angel's face. Her horror makes talking about it a little easier to bear, somehow. At least Roy isn’t the only horrified one at the table. 

“I’m sorry,” the angel replies sincerely, taking another swig of her beer as if she’s trying to occupy her own mouth so she doesn't have to talk anymore. Roy sympathises.

She shrugs. “It’s a risk we all take,” she says, reciting the things everyone has been telling her and hoping that the angel gets what Roy means. None of it was okay, but Maes had died doing what he thought was right, because he knew that even if he was gone, his family would be looked after. Roy both blamed him and didn't; she couldn't say for sure she wouldn't have done the same thing, if it had been her, but she hates him anyway, for leaving. She hates him almost as much as she misses him. “Anyway, I doubt there’s any love lost between you and the police. It’s understandable.” 

And it is. If there’s one thing Maes had taught her, it’s that lots of people had reasons for not liking the police. Hell, sometimes even _ Roy _ didn’t like the police, and she _ was _the police. 

The angel shrugs. “Nah, that’s not it. I mean fuck the police in principle. My brother never listens to me and now he’s a cop, so I can’t really hate all of you.” 

Roy perks up. “Your brother’s an officer?”

The angel grins and suddenly she looks so much softer and younger that Roy can’t believe she’s the same person. “Taking his detective’s exam, actually. He’s really good at what he does, and he loves it.” 

“What’s his name,” Roy asks, leaning closer. “I might have heard of him.” 

The angel shrugs, taking another sip of her beer. “Alphonse Elric? He goes by Al?”

Roy can’t help but laugh, because who _ hasn’t _ heard of Alphonse? “I know him! There’s at least three teams fighting to take him once he passes his exams! He’s really popular,” she praises, because it’s the truth and because she can see how happy it makes Ed to know that her Brother is doing well. And then something occurs to her. “Wait, so that makes you Ed? Ed Elric?” 

The angel - Ed, if Roy has got it right - suddenly looks cautious. “Yes?” 

Roy laughs again and sips at her G&T through the tiny black stirrer, dragging the drink out so she can linger here for a while longer. “He talks about you! I think we’ve all heard about you! But I thought you were a doctor?”

Ed clicks her tongue but her blush shows that she’s not really angry, more bashful that her brother has been talking her up to his colleagues. “Doctoral student. I just defended last week. Haven’t gone through the actual ceremony yet but it’s a done deal, they’re just sorting out the details and I’ll have my own office soon. I won’t have to come to this shithole anymore,” she mumbles the last line under her breath, eyeing the dingy surroundings. 

“Congratulations, Ed. Do you mind if I call you that?” 

Ed turns her steely glare at Roy but she’s not angry; Roy doesn’t know how she knows this, but she’s sure. “Yeah, but only if you tell me your name too. I’m not going to keep calling you Princess in my head.” She immediately flushes scarlet when she realises what she’s just admitted, but Roy can’t help but be charmed. 

Roy resists the urge to tease and says, “Ed Elric, my name is Roy Mustang. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She extends a hand to Ed, who shakes it cautiously. Her grip is strong and warm and only a little bit damp from the condensation forming on the sides of her pint glass. She doesn’t let go of Ed’s hand though, because she thinks she’s read the signs right. Instead she turns Ed’s hand over, leans over the counter, and presses her lips against Ed’s knuckles. Her suspicions are confirmed when Ed doesn’t deck her, and looks away, scowling, her cheeks still painted red. 

Roy knows she’s grinning wide enough that she probably looks insane but - “listen, what time does your shift end?” 

Ed looks around the bar and there’s no one left. Then she shrugs. “In an hour, but I don’t think anyone will notice if I leave now. Normally I just sit here and work on my thesis but now that’s over, I don’t really have anything to do. Why?” 

Roy’s grin widens, if that’s even possible. Her cheeks are going to hurt from how much she’s smiling but god, Ed just confirmed that she’s free for the rest of the evening. 

“Do you want to go and get something to eat? Maybe a drink that you don’t have to pour yourself?” 

Ed looks torn between agreement and wariness. “I’m not a particularly fancy person, Roy. I’m not so sure—”

“I’m thinking waffles,” Roy cuts her off, before she gets even more unsure. “I know a diner a couple of blocks away. They do a killer hot chocolate, if you’re not a fan of coffee at this time of night.”

Ed still looks torn and Roy gets it; they’ve only just met. For most part, Ed hadn’t even known her name. It’s only sensible to be cautious but, _ god._ She has such a good feeling about this. 

“Their waffles are perfect,” she wheedles, “crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. And they always give loads syrup and butter, and if you’re in the mood, their curly fries are to die for—”

Before she can get any further, Ed interjects, “okay, alright, yes, I’ll come. How did you know that I’m into food?” She glares accusingly at Roy but she can’t help but notice they’re still holding hands across the table; a handshake that’s turned into something much more intimate. 

She squeezes Ed’s fingers gently, and reluctantly lets her go, before blinking guilelessly at Ed, knowing that the way she widens her eyes is just on the other side of unnerving. “Aren’t we all into food?” She asks, but cracks into laughter when Ed’s glare intensifies. “It was just a guess, Ed. Also, I’m pretty hungry, so it makes sense.” 

Ed sighs but she’s smiling ever so slightly. “Stick around for a bit. I’ll go close up shop so we can go.” Roy has absolutely no objections to that, especially not since she gets to observe Ed’s efficiency in motion again. 

As she sips on the last of her drink, she wonders if Maes would have liked Ed. Then she shakes her head and tries not to grin; of _course_ he would have. He’s probably the one who sent an angel to cross her path in the first place. She really hopes Maes is watching over them, now. 

**Author's Note:**

> Send love please!


End file.
